Best Served Cold
by Emma Grant
Summary: At the beginning of sixth year, Harry thinks he's found a way to take his revenge on Draco Malfoy. HD slash, written before the release of HBP. This was originally posted on my LJ and FA a year ago.


**Title:** Best Served Cold**  
Author:** Emma Grant **  
Rating:** R (M)  
**Fandom/Pairing:** Harry Potter, Harry/Draco **  
Summary:** At the beginning of sixth year, Harry thinks he's found a way to take his revenge on Draco Malfoy. **  
Disclaimer:** I'm not JKR, and none of this is mine. _Really_. **  
Note:** This was originally posted on my LJ a year ago. I decided to post it here to see if anyone might be interested in reading it! (Most of what I write exceeds the ratings limitations for this site...) This was written for the eriseddiaries LJ community's "Back to school" challenge. It's set in the beginning of sixth year and obviously was written way before HBP came out. Thanks to Jedi Rita and Carrie for the betas!

* * *

Harry blinked, partly to be certain he wasn't imagining this. He heard Hermione's sharp inhalation behind him, followed by the distinct sound of Ron choking on his own spit.

"_What_ did you say?" Harry managed at last, hearing his voice waver a bit.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed even further, and he shifted on the floor, clearly uncomfortable. Harry imagined he wasn't used to being on his knees in front of anyone.

"I said, _will you marry me_?" Malfoy repeated, grinding the words out through his teeth. The expression on his face was one of pure hatred, and the incongruity of the question and his manner nearly made Harry laugh out loud.

"Is this a joke?" Harry asked, trying to inject some venom into his tone.

Malfoy made a great show of rolling his eyes. "Just answer the fucking question, Potter." Zabini, who was leaning against the wall of the corridor, made a snorting noise and doubled over in mirth. A slight flush rose on Malfoy's cheeks.

In retrospect, that was the moment Harry first realized the extent to which Draco Malfoy's life had changed. Hermione had gleefully read the story to them from the _Daily Prophet_ as they'd ridden the Hogwarts Express three days earlier: Malfoy's family fortune had been seized by the Ministry. With Lucius Malfoy sentenced to Azkaban for his unspeakable crimes, the government had booted his wife and son out of their manor home and frozen their bank accounts. They hadn't seen Malfoy on the train, and Ron had bet Harry ten galleons that Malfoy wouldn't show up back at school at all. It turned out Malfoy had already been at Hogwarts for a few days. Even though Harry insisted it wasn't a real bet, Ron was planning to pay him in installments.

At the moment, Ron was grinning from ear to ear and smirking down at Malfoy. "D'you expect Harry to give you the time of day with that attitude?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, leering down at his nemesis. "And not even a ring? Really, Malfoy, I expected better from the likes of you."

Goyle was snickering now, and Zabini was laughing so hard he slid to the floor, hand over his mouth. Malfoy's jaw tightened. Harry could see an expression of defeat on his face for a fraction of a second before it was reined in again. Malfoy stared at the floor in front of him, saying nothing.

"Was this a wizard dare?" Hermione asked. Her question was directed to Zabini, who had to wipe his eyes on his sleeve before answering.

"Of course."

Harry bit his lip to keep from grinning with delight. Malfoy wouldn't be released from the game until Harry gave him his answer. He'd have the threat of being jinxed hanging over him, forcing him to cooperate until the dare was complete. Harry could hardly believe his luck.

"The jinx must have been something truly distasteful," Hermione remarked, a slight smile on her face.

"Oh, it was," Zabini replied. "It's worth more than his pride, anyway." His sneer became malevolent, to Harry's surprise, but Zabini's Slytherin mask fell in place again when he caught Harry's eye. He pushed himself to his feet and leaned against the corridor wall, casually studying the scene before him. "So answer him, or don't. It makes no difference to me."

Malfoy flinched. A little voice in the back of Harry's head suggested he really shouldn't take advantage of the situation. But Malfoy was down, and the desire to kick him was more than Harry could resist.

"Well, seeing as we haven't had a proper date, I don't know how I could possibly give you an answer," he replied, shrugging. "I'll give you a week, and if you're nice to me--" Malfoy's eyes shot up to Harry's face at that "--_and_ my friends, I'll answer you."

Malfoy glared at him. Harry smirked, then turned and walked away.

* * *

"This is bloody _fantastic_!" Ron crowed. Hermione looked up from her arithmancy homework long enough to roll her eyes and sigh. Harry collapsed on the common room sofa next to Ron, grinning. "I mean, who would've thought Malfoy's friends would stab him in the back like that?" 

"I doubt they were ever really his friends," Hermione interjected, not looking up from the algorithm she was scratching out on parchment. "He bullied them for years, and they had to take it because he had power and wealth behind him. Now he's lost everything, so they're having a bit of revenge."

"Revenge," Harry repeated. He could hardly blame them; Slytherins weren't known for their loyalty, after all.

"This is going to be a fucking fantastic year," Ron sighed, a dreamy smile on his face. "What're you going to make him do first, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Let's see if he can be nice to us first. That ought to be punishment enough. If not, I'll think of something unpleasant."

"Nothing's too horrible for him," Ron snorted. "You could make him drink a love potion and fall in love with Filch. Or you could make him propose to you again in front of the whole school, and follow you around on his hands and knees. Or make him fuck up so badly in Potions that Snape will have to take 50 points from Slytherin. Or--"

"I'm sure I can come up with something," Harry laughed. "But you could make a list of gruesome possibilities, if you like."

Hermione sighed from behind her stack of books. "Boys," she muttered. Harry and Ron grinned.

* * *

Two days passed, during which Malfoy avoided Harry completely. If he saw Harry walking down a corridor, he turned and went the other way. If he was in the library when Harry arrived, he'd leave without a word. The only times Harry saw him were during meals and in the few classes they had together. 

Malfoy's housemates showed him little regard, from what Harry could see. The older students seemed to be jockeying for status as the new leader of Slytherin, and even Malfoy's prefect badge did little to stop them from shunning him. He appeared to take it in stride, but Harry was shocked by how quickly Malfoy had descended the social scale. Harry had been the object of public scorn many times in his life, but seeing it happen to someone who deserved it was surprisingly unsatisfying.

"Think we should provoke him?" Ron whispered during Potions on the third day.

"Here?" Harry hissed, incredulous. "Snape's looking for any excuse to get rid of me as it is."

"I thought he was supposed to be _nice_ to us," Ron retorted.

"I think he _is_ being nice," Harry said. "He's not subjecting us to his presence, for example."

"Well, it's boring," Ron grumbled. "This is our big chance to pay him back for all the shit he's given us. You should provoke him after class."

Harry had actually started to enjoy being a non-entity in Malfoy's life, and he was leery of upsetting the current peace between them. But Ron had a point: it was an opportunity they'd likely not have again. He sighed. "Fine, then. After class."

This plan proved unnecessary within a few minutes. Zabini sabotaged Malfoy's cauldron just before they were to turn in their finished potions, causing it to spew pink sparks everywhere. Malfoy's face went paler than normal, and Snape was livid. Malfoy got a detention and lost ten points for Slytherin, much to Ron's delight.

"Or maybe," Ron mused, "we don't have to work hard to make him suffer after all."

Harry smiled. "Still, I think we can raise the stakes a little." He winked at Ron and headed towards Malfoy's table as the rest of the students streamed past.

Malfoy scowled at him, then wiped his face clean of expression. Harry leaned against another table, watching Malfoy attempt to clean his cauldron with a shaky _scourgify_.

"Need some help, Malfoy?" Harry asked when they were finally alone.

Malfoy snorted. "You wish. Think I'd give you an opportunity to jinx my cauldron?"

"What's the point? Your housemates seem to be doing a fine job already."

Malfoy's face fell slightly, and he spelled away the last of his ruined potion. "Are you going to answer my _question_, Potter, or not?"

"You haven't held up your end of the bargain," Harry replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I _have_ been nice to you!" Malfoy protested, piling his books and parchment into his empty cauldron.

"You've avoided me entirely," Harry retorted.

"That _is_ being nice, for me." Malfoy copied Harry's stance, defiant. "Did you expect candy and flowers? Poetry?"

Harry smirked. "I expected you to make an attempt to have a civil conversation with me."

"I'm being civil, and we're having a conversation. Happy?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at that, and Malfoy's eyes widened a bit. "It's a start," Harry told him, still grinning. "But I think you need to atone for your sins, Malfoy."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed again. "And how am I supposed to do that?"

Harry pursed his lips. "This is a Hogsmeade weekend for sixth and seventh years. I want you to go with me."

"What?" Malfoy's jaw dropped. "You're joking, right?"

Harry smirked. "You did ask me to marry you, after all. I want you to take me on a date, at the very least."

Malfoy took a step back, visibly shaken. "A _date_?"

"Yeah, you know. Take me places. Buy me things." At Malfoy's panicked expression, Harry sighed. "Okay, given your current financial situation, I suppose you don't have to buy me things. But I expect you to be nice to me for an entire day, Malfoy. Pretend you like me, no matter how horrid I or any of my friends are to you." Harry pushed off the table and glared at the other boy. "Believe me, it's the worst thing I could think of to make you do."

Harry didn't look back, but he could feel Malfoy's eyes burning into the back of his skull as he left the classroom.

* * *

"You've _got_ to be having me on," Ron groaned. 

Harry sighed. Ron hadn't been as enthusiastic as he'd hoped. "But it's a _whole day_ of tormenting Malfoy!" he whined. "And he can't do anything about it."

Ron winced. "Look, mate... I'm sorry, but I promised Hermione I'd..." He trailed off, and Harry's jaw clenched.

"Promised Hermione what?"

Ron exhaled. "Harry, please don't be angry. I just... I told her I'd spend some time alone with her, and..." He looked away.

Harry exhaled, trying to mask his bitterness. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen it coming, of course, but the reality of being a third wheel was starting to hit home.

"Fine," Harry muttered. "Abandon me to Malfoy, why don't you?"

"Harry--"

"Never mind," Harry spat, walking away.

Ron and Hermione. Where was he going to fit in now? What had they expected him to do today, anyway: follow them around? Find someone else to hang out with while they snogged in a dark corner somewhere?

Malfoy was waiting for him in the courtyard, dressed in stylish Muggle clothes despite his recent impoverishment. He tensed when he saw Harry, and then plastered a very fake smile on his face. "Hiya."

Harry grimaced. "Hello, Malfoy."

"Shall we?"

Harry was about to reply when he heard a shout behind him. He turned to see Ron and Hermione jogging over.

"We'll walk to town with you, at least," Ron whispered.

"Thanks ever so," Harry replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione said, suppressing a grin. "You look quite fetching this morning. Didn't know you could do Muggle-chic."

"Charming, as usual, Granger," Malfoy replied. It looked as if smiling was causing him pain.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron, who returned the expression, and the foursome started down the path to Hogsmeade. Harry felt the eyes of the other students on them as they walked, and he couldn't help but hear the fervent whispers of "Malfoy" and "What's that about?" Only the Slytherins didn't express surprise at seeing Malfoy walking to Hogsmeade with his arch-nemesis. No one else in the school knew about the dare, it seemed, nor cared about Malfoy's recent family troubles.

"So where does your mother reside these days, anyway?" Ron asked. His tone was light, but Malfoy tensed all the same.

"With relatives," Malfoy replied. "And yours?" He smiled, and Ron scowled.

"Careful, Malfoy. You have to put up with our shit today, remember?"

Malfoy's face was a mask of innocence. "Enquiring after your mother is considered rude, is it?"

"It is from you," Ron spat. Hermione elbowed him, and Harry rolled his eyes. If Ron was going to let Malfoy get to him that easily, maybe it would be best if he and Hermione _didn't_ hang around for long.

"I didn't know you had any relatives," Harry quipped. "It's a bit distressing to hear there are more Malfoys running loose."

"There aren't," Malfoy replied, but he didn't elaborate.

"I can understand why your parents stopped after they had _you_," Ron said. Malfoy rolled his eyes, but didn't reply. "Of course, having met your mother, it's hardly a shock. I wouldn't be surprised if your parents have separate bedrooms."

Hermione gaped at Ron, clearly believing he'd stepped over the line.

Malfoy laughed. "You're going to have to do better than that, Weasley. Ignoring you today is hardly going to be a challenge."

Harry elbowed Malfoy, a little harder than necessary. "Nice," he hissed.

Malfoy sighed. "By all means, Weasley, please continue with your pathetic attempts to insult my parentage. It's amusing, actually."

Ron scowled, but said nothing more.

"Heard from your father?" Harry asked, hoping to pick up where Ron had left off.

Malfoy snorted. "Hell, no. And even if I had, why would I share that information with anyone?"

"Have you visited him in Azkaban?" Hermione asked. She seemed genuinely interested, Harry thought, and not simply trying to provoke him.

Malfoy glanced at her and looked away again. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Finally, something we agree on," Harry muttered. "If I never see Lucius Malfoy again, it'll be too soon."

Malfoy smiled in response, and Harry had the distinct feeling he shouldn't have said that. He clenched his jaw, frustrated. Apparently, living with Slytherins had hardened Malfoy to insults. This was going to be harder than Harry thought.

"Why did you bother coming back to school, Malfoy?" Ron asked. "After all, you have no home, no money for tuition--"

"It's taught me to have sympathy for those less fortunate," Malfoy interjected, shooting Ron a condescending look. "Perhaps we can exchange budgeting strategies sometime." Ron's ears turned red.

"Malfoy," Harry warned.

"I'm extending a hand of friendship to Weasley," Malfoy retorted, turning an earnest face to Harry. "Surely that counts as being nice."

Harry had no response for that, much to his dismay. They walked in silence for several minutes, tension thick around them. Harry had a sinking feeling this "date" had been a terrible idea. Of course, if it got too bad, he could always just call it off, and tell Malfoy "no."

Or "yes." He wondered what would happen in that case.

They stopped in front of Honeydukes and looked at each other awkwardly.

Harry sighed. It might be best if he just let his friends off the hook. "Want to meet up at the Three Broomsticks later?"

"Erm, sure," Hermione replied. She looked almost guilty, and Ron wouldn't meet Harry's gaze at all. Hermione shot a wary glance at Malfoy before taking Ron's arm and tugging him down the street.

"They're going the wrong way," Malfoy remarked. "Madame Puddifoot's tea house is the other direction."

Harry frowned at him. "Why would they want to go there?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Isn't that where all the couples go, to snog over coffee?"

"How would you know?" Harry asked. "You've never had a girlfriend."

Malfoy's smile tightened, as if maintaining it required great effort. "_Everyone_ knows that's where you go."

"Really?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "A perfect date spot, then?"

Malfoy's expression fell. "Potter... _no_."

Harry grinned at what appeared to be distress on Malfoy's face. He'd finally broken through that icy exterior, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity go. "Yes. No kissing, but there will be coffee."

Malfoy glared at him for a long moment, then turned on his heel and marched down the street, so quickly Harry had to jog to catch up. "I will _murder_ Zabini, if it's the last thing I do," Malfoy muttered.

_Better him than me_, Harry thought. Still, Malfoy's anger was a good sign. Maybe this was going to work after all.

Madame Puddifoot's tea house was bustling. Banners were hung from the walls and ceiling, welcoming the students back to Hogwarts in big flashing letters, and the tables were covered with cloths depicting quivering stacks of school books. The tables were packed with pairs of Hogwarts students hunched over small plates and tea cups, talking, laughing, and... doing other more intimate things, Harry soon realized.

He had been here once before on a fateful date with Cho Chang. He swallowed, feeling uncomfortable already.

"Over there," Malfoy said, pointing to a single empty table in the center of the room. Its blue vase held a few wilting flowers, and the cloth was stained with coffee spills from the previous occupants. There were two poufy chairs, situated far too intimately for Harry's taste.

Every head turned towards Harry and Malfoy as they made their way to the table. Harry flinched instinctively at the attention. It had only been a week, after all. What could he have done to become the school pariah already?

Unless...

People didn't know why Malfoy was hanging around with him today. He'd been teasing Malfoy about going on a date, but maybe coming _here_ was a mistake. Harry glanced nervously around the room again, searching for a friendly face. Terry Boot looked away when Harry caught his eye, and Zacharias Smith was staring at him and Malfoy, slack-jawed.

Harry sat heavily in his poufy chair, afraid to look anywhere but at the table in front of him. He had to fight to keep the flush from his face. Tormenting Malfoy had been one thing, but this...

Madam Puddifoot appeared tableside, one eyebrow raised. "So, what can I get you... boys?"

"Two coffees, please," Harry replied, voice wavering a bit. She nodded curtly and walked away, turning back once to stare at them.

"Happy, Potter?" Malfoy whispered. "Now the entire school is going to think we're a couple."

Harry gritted his teeth, looking anywhere but at Malfoy. "Bet you never expected to be outed by me, huh?"

Malfoy only stared at him in response.

"We don't have to stay long," Harry sighed, sinking his forehead into his hands. How had this day turned out so badly? It had been a brilliant plan, he'd thought. If only Ron and Hermione hadn't abandoned him. It was their fault.

"Two coffees," Madame Puddifoot said, and set cups before them. She glanced back and forth between them while Harry dug coins out of his pockets to pay, a look of mild disapproval on her round face. It was a strange relief when she finally walked away again. Harry stirred a liberal amount of sugar into his coffee. Malfoy sipped his black, and looked as uncomfortable as Harry'd ever seen him. An awkward silence stretched between them, which only accentuated the sound of giggles and whispers directed their way.

"So is this what it's like to be you?" Malfoy asked. There was little venom in his tone, for once. "Everyone staring at you, as if you're some sort of freak?"

"You _are_ a freak, Malfoy," Harry retorted.

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy smiled. "That was weak, Potter. You can do better than that."

Harry considered, then tried again. "Your head is usually stuck so far up your arse that I'm surprised you notice how people look at me at all."

Malfoy nodded. "Better."

Harry smirked. "Why, _Draco_, I never knew you noticed so much about me. How sweet."

Malfoy scowled into his coffee. "Okay, okay," he muttered.

They were silent for several minutes, both sipping coffee as quickly as they could manage. There were still quite a few furtive glances in their direction, but most of the couples had gone back to the primary activity of kissing noisily and fondling each other under the tables. The sight nearly overwhelmed Harry with a sense of _deja-vu_. He closed his eyes and sighed. It hadn't gone so well the last time he'd been here either.

"You know, I haven't been in here before," Malfoy said at last, looking around. "It's tacky and over-decorated."

"I agree," Harry replied. "I hate this place. The coffee isn't that good, anyway."

Malfoy set his cup down and raised an eyebrow. "We don't _have_ to finish it, you know."

Harry stared into his half-full cup. He didn't know what else they were going to do, but the longer they stayed here, the more uncomfortable he was going to feel. "Fine," he muttered, pretending to be annoyed.

They left amid more whispers, which they both valiantly pretended to ignore. Once out on the street, they glanced at each other, uncertain.

"Where do you want to go?" Harry asked.

"You're the one who wanted to go on a _date_," Malfoy replied, annoyed. "You decide."

At that moment, the Patil twins happened to be walking by. They stopped just behind Malfoy, gaping at what they'd overheard.

Harry winced and grabbed Malfoy by the elbow. "Anywhere where people won't jump to conclusions," he grumbled, and tugged Malfoy down the street. They walked quietly for nearly a minute before Harry realized he was still holding Malfoy's arm. He let go and stepped away, putting some distance between them.

Malfoy smirked as he dusted off his sleeve. "What's wrong, Potter? Afraid of tarnishing your halo?"

"Be nice," Harry warned, through his teeth. This day was not turning out as he'd imagined.

"_Nice_," Malfoy minced, crossing his arms over his chest. "Between the coffee shop and the hand-holding, I'm starting to wonder what exactly you expect from me today."

"I wasn't holding--" Harry began, but stopped at Malfoy's suggestive expression. "This was all about the dare, Malfoy. I'm not... _gay_, and I don't expect anything like _that_." He started walking again, though he had no particular destination in mind. He'd always just wandered around Hogsmeade before, looking in shops, and laughing with Ron and Hermione. Those days seemed to be very far away now.

Malfoy was following a few steps behind him, almost obediently. Harry smirked, imagining Malfoy traipsing after him for the rest of the day, always two steps behind. He finally headed towards the Three Broomsticks, even though Ron and Hermione wouldn't be there for an hour. Maybe it would be less full than the coffee shop. Maybe a few butterbeers would help.

He paused outside to make certain Malfoy was still behind him.

"Thirsty today?" Malfoy quipped, but followed him inside anyway.

The pub was full of students and faculty, it turned out. Harry felt the weight of their gazes as he and Malfoy wound their way to a table in the corner. They sat on the same bench against the wall and glared at their audience. Some students were whispering and looking their direction. Others were openly staring. Even a few teachers cast furtive glances towards their corner, then exchanged infuriatingly knowing looks.

"You'd think the world had spun off its axis simply because you and I are having a drink together," Harry mumbled.

"That's not why they're staring, and you know it," Malfoy replied, studying his fingernails beneath the table. "You brought this on yourself, you know."

"Will you shut it and get us some drinks, please?"

Malfoy plastered on a fake smile and headed to the bar. Harry's defiant stares seemed to dampen the enthusiasm of most of the curious, at least until Malfoy returned with bottles of butterbeer.

"Perhaps you should just kiss me and get it over with," Malfoy whispered as he sat.

"What!" Harry gaped at him.

"Or not," Malfoy shrugged. "It's your _date_."

"Stop saying that," Harry groaned. "You know why we're here."

"Yes, I do," Malfoy replied. "And I also know you could end this at any time by simply answering my question."

Harry pursed his lips. He kept thinking he could regain control of the situation and exact his revenge, but it wasn't working out that way. Maybe Malfoy was right, and he should just call this off now.

Of course, Ron and Hermione would be here soon, and they'd help him out. It was too good an opportunity to throw away, wasn't it?

Harry forced himself to smirk. "I can't believe you're cooperating at all. What did Zabini threaten to jinx you with, anyway?"

"Think I'm stupid enough to give you that kind of ammunition?" Malfoy snorted. "I'm not going to reveal my weaknesses that easily."

"Too bad," Harry muttered, suppressing a smile.

Malfoy's eyes widened, and he stared at Harry for a moment. Then, to Harry's dismay, a huge smile began to spread across his face.

"What?" Harry asked, through a mouthful of butterbeer.

Malfoy slid closer to Harry. "Or maybe this _is_ what you had in mind all along."

Harry gaped at him. "I... _what_?"

Malfoy traced one long finger down Harry's arm, watching its path with his grey eyes. "You wanted to go on a date because you really _were_ interested in me."

Harry flattened himself against the wall. "Malfoy, no, you've... I did this to get back at you, to make you miserable--"

Malfoy leaned closer, grinning. "Riiiight. I believe you, Harry." His hand slid into Harry's under the table. "Come on, admit it. You fancy me."

"I don't! I'm not..." Harry heard himself sputtering and grew even more flustered. A few people nearby turned towards their table, apparently having overheard the conversation. Harry had no idea what to do now. If he jerked his hand away, it would be obvious something was going on under the table, but if he didn't-- "Ow!"

Malfoy had squeezed his hand, hard. "Aren't I being _nice_ enough?" Malfoy asked. It looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"Harry... Malfoy."

Harry looked up to see Ron and Hermione standing by their table, staring. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Hi," he said. "Sit down. _Please_."

Unfortunately, Malfoy took this opportunity to scoot even closer to Harry on the pretense of making room for them. Ron and Hermione sat on the opposite side of the table, both looking wary.

"So, what did you do today?" Harry gushed, grateful for something else to think about, as Malfoy was still holding his hand.

"Not much," Ron replied, glancing back and forth between Harry and Malfoy. "Erm... you?"

"We went to Madam Puddifoot's," Malfoy replied, smiling. "It was busy there, wasn't it, Harry?"

"Yeah." Harry swallowed. "So, want some butterbeer?"

"Half the people there needed to go get a room," Malfoy continued, rolling his eyes for effect, "but that _is_ why you go there, right?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and Ron made a little choking sound in the back of his throat.

Harry tried again. "So, did you take a walk, or...?" Malfoy's hand was on Harry's thigh now, and Harry responded by stepping on his foot, as casually as possible. Malfoy squirmed and gripped Harry's thigh tighter.

Hermione was staring at them as if they had just sprouted horns. "Ummm... yeah. Went for a walk. Is something wrong?"

"No, of course not," Malfoy smiled, leaning into Harry and pinching what must have been a pressure point in his thigh. It was all Harry could do not to let the pain show on his face. "Why do you ask?"

Harry wrenched a hand free and pinched the nearest part of Malfoy he could find. Unfortunately, he now had a handful of backside. Malfoy made a tiny noise of surprise.

"It's just that..." Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"People are saying some strange things," Ron supplied. "About you two."

"Really?" Malfoy asked, now squashing Harry's foot with one of his own. "Like what?" Harry pinched his arse as hard as he could.

"Well, Parvati said she saw you holding hands. And Lavender saw you in Madam Puddifoot's, and she swears you were..." Ron paused, looking acutely uncomfortable.

"Friendly," Hermione finished.

"Ha," Harry managed, despite the fact that his toe was being crushed and his hand was cramping. "That's because Malfoy was supposed to be nice to me today." He turned and glared at him. "No matter what."

Malfoy grinned in response. "I've been _very_ nice, too, haven't I?"

Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione, and saw they'd got Malfoy's meaning, loud and clear.

"Enough," Harry spat, clenching his jaw in an effort to maintain control of his anger. "Outside, Malfoy. _Now_."

His abused body parts were promptly released, and Malfoy stood and walked away from the table, expression unreadable. Harry turned back to his friends. "I'll be back, all right? Just... stay here. Get a drink. On me." He dropped a few coins on the table and hurried towards the door.

Malfoy was walking around a corner into an alley when Harry exited the pub. He followed, feeling his anger spiral wildly in his chest. He had no idea how he was going to get Malfoy back for this, but he'd think of something.

Malfoy stopped and leaned against the side of the building at the end of the alley, smirking at him. "Well?"

Harry glared at him. "What are you trying to do?"

"You said I had to be nice to you. You can't deny I was trying."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Malfoy! That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I can be nicer, you know," Malfoy leered. "I'll have the whole school convinced you're fucking me by tomorrow. Unless..."

Harry could feel the flush creeping up his neck, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, but it was over now. Malfoy had won. Harry'd had an opportunity, but he'd lost control of the situation somewhere along the way.

"Fine," Harry whispered.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, sure of his victory. "Or maybe you'd like people to think that. Maybe that's been your dirty little secret all along."

Harry closed his eyes and pictured his fist embedding itself in Malfoy's stomach. He imagined Malfoy doubling over in pain, and collapsing to the dirty cobblestones beneath his feet. He imagined the pain in Malfoy's eyes, and the fear, when he realized Harry wasn't finished.

He wasn't going to do it, but he wanted to, almost more than he could bear. It took every ounce of his self-control to place his hands safely on Malfoy's shoulders, where they could do little harm. He forced his eyes open.

"The thing is," Malfoy whispered, tilting his head a little and staring thoughtfully at Harry, "I thought you would hit me for that. Why didn't you?"

Harry couldn't answer that question. He couldn't think. He couldn't do anything. Malfoy's grey eyes bored into his, and he was far too close for comfort. Malfoy had little freckles on his nose, which struck Harry as odd. He'd always thought of him as something perfect, porcelain, untouchable, unaffected.

Malfoy was staring at him now, a strange expression on his face. This was affecting him, Harry realized. _Harry_ was affecting him, just by standing so close. Maybe this game wasn't quite over.

It was far too easy to lean forward just a little, to blow his breath across Malfoy's lips, to watch him close his eyes and part his lips in anticipation.

The next thing Harry knew, his mouth was crushed against Malfoy's, his tongue roughly pressing between Malfoy's lips, and his torso was flattening Malfoy against the stone wall. It was nothing like the kiss with Cho had been. It was rough, and hot, and hard, and erotic, and a hundred things he couldn't have imagined before now. Malfoy was kissing him back, giving as good as he was getting, leveraging off the wall behind him and pressing himself against Harry in return.

A familiar twinge of arousal spiraled in Harry's groin, and only then did the reality of the situation crack through his hormonal haze. He shoved Malfoy away, hearing his head hit the wall, but not caring if it had hurt. He willed away his growing arousal, praying to any god that would listen not to let this happen -- not here, not now. He didn't want to open his eyes, because Malfoy would know then that it had backfired so horribly, just like everything else had today.

He heard Malfoy's hiss of pain, and was filled with a desire so intense it shocked him. How could he simultaneously want to hurt Malfoy and kiss him again? What did that mean?

It meant he was finished with this game, at least. He opened his eyes to see Malfoy glaring at him, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

"No," Harry said.

Malfoy froze, blinking at him. "What?"

"I said _no_," Harry replied. His voice seemed to come from someone other than himself, as if he were watching this from a distance, with a detached sort of horror. "I won't marry you."

Malfoy opened and closed his mouth again before he managed to speak. "Oh."

"So it's over," Harry said, turning away. "You win. You don't have to be _nice_ to me anymore." He walked down the alley, half hoping Malfoy would stop him, and half hoping he'd never see him again.

"Good," he heard behind him, in a small, defiant voice.

Harry kept walking, all the way back to Hogwarts, to his dorm room, and to his bed, where he pulled the curtains tightly around him and wished he'd never kissed Draco Malfoy. He wished even harder that it hadn't shaken him to his core.

Because now _everything_ had changed.

FIN


End file.
